Outside Looking In
by msheartsung
Summary: "Because if nothing else, this is safe."


**OUTSIDE LOOKING IN**

So ... this is what it feels like. I'm not going to pretend that it's exactly how I expected it to be. To tell the truth, it's far from that … but, to be even more truthful, this is kind of how I like things – at least at the moment.

Because if nothing else, this is safe. Not 'safe' as in 'sheltered from any dangers', but rather as in 'unlikely to destroy anything meaningful'. Not … that there is anything meaningful I _could_ be trying to hold on to. At least in _his_ eyes, there's nothing. In mine, though … there is. Quite a lot, actually. More, probably, than most people, not just him, would ever be able to guess. Although … it'd be lying to claim that I'd want them to. I don't; it's better for all of us if they're oblivious – oblivious to how much of all this I really do understand (almost everything), of how much I do see (more than most others here, I think). No, it really is easier if they believe that, for me, all of this is merely a surprisingly realistic, full-time role playing game. Even the kid seems to believe me when I say that, but I'm not sure if he actually does – with him, it's hard to tell. But everyone else … they believe it. None of them are used to anything else from me, and thus expect nothing different. It doesn't matter how I try to turn it – this always ends up being the safest way, even if it's far from the best.

Then again, there are times … times like these, when, somewhere inside, in a place I can't really specify myself, I want nothing more than for him to finally _see_. To see all the things I've practically been dangling right in front of his face for so long. To understand that I'm not doing all this just to humour him (though I was, once, but those times are over, have been for a while) or for my own convenience … but for different reasons entirely. Is it so hard to get that I'm not doing this for a quick fix? … well, I suppose for him, it would be. If he's unable to get an idea of his own feelings, then how should he manage to even guess mine?

… actually, asking myself that question (or any regarding him) is pretty much useless – I know the answers to all of them, but they still have never been of any use. It really is a good thing that I managed to surprise myself this way, by liking the position of the silent watcher, or else I might have turned emo by now. Not that I have anything against those … I just don't want to become one of them. Because if I did, the others would definitely notice – it'd be such an obvious change that even _he_ would have no choice but to understand what I feel (and why), which would probably end in disaster. Things like that usually do.

And really, it still feels good, even with the added worries, confusion and effort I have to put into this to make it work, I can't help enjoying every minute of it.

It's best when we're alone. He's not gentle with me, he never has been for as long as this has been going on … and that's another thing I never thought I'd like. I don't even know why – it may even be just because it's him, it probably is. I'm almost sure that he sees me as even more of a freak of nature than before since he knows … and maybe he even wonders how I can take all of it without any complaint – and actually get off on it. But he's never asked me about it, so he either thinks he has the right answer, doesn't care about it or believes that asking me would be inappropriate (it's not like I want him to ask, though; I probably wouldn't know what to tell him if he did). This, if you think about it, is just another perfect example of the truce-like agreement we currently have. He doesn't ask, so I don't have to answer, so he doesn't have to understand, so we both don't have to deal with the complications. If you put it like this, it sounds as if it could never work out … but it somehow does. And I know I'm the only one wondering how – not _why_. _Why_ is probably what _he_'s asking himself, if he stops to think about it. But not me; I don't question the reasons, just the way things work. It's probably why I'm not as dumb as I look – and, for the most part, act. I play dumb, and watch without anyone noticing. The only one I'm not watching (because I can't) is myself. And that, as much as I hate to admit it, is a good thing, maybe even the best about this whole deal.

Because if I could watch myself, I'd be seeing a fool who's so badly in love that he refuses to acknowledge the way he's going to break over it.


End file.
